A Woman of Independent Means (42 page)

Eleanor insisted on cooking dinner for us one night. Her culinary skill is limited to one menu—steak and artichokes—but that is one more than I ever mastered, so I was quite impressed. After dinner she showed us a portfolio of her costume sketches—the result of her study this year at the Design Institute. I think she has real talent in this field and could compete on a professional level; however, she appears to have no interest in a career.

She accompanied us to Yale for Andrew's graduation, then traveled alone to Princeton for the commencement activities of her friend Henry Prince. I would love to have gone with her—I have seen neither Henry nor his father since we said good-bye in Italy almost six years ago—but Sam felt we belonged here with Andrew.

Eleanor has spent a great deal of time with the Prince boy since moving to New York last fall but insists they are simply good friends and says I must not expect anything further to develop from their relationship. I know she is only trying to prevent my future disappointment, but nothing will keep me from being heartbroken if they cannot find permanent joy in each other's company.

The two of them are making plans to travel through Germany this summer—on foot where possible and by train everywhere else, no itinerary, only impulse to guide them. Under any other circumstances, I simply could not permit Eleanor to make a trip of this kind, but I have the highest regard for Henry Prince and I can only hope this will be the first of many adventures the two of them will share. Henry and his father are the kind of men who are at home anywhere in the world, and I could ask nothing better for my daughter.

Congratulations to Marian on all her academic honors. You must be very proud of her.

Love to all of you,
Bess

 

SEPTEMBER 9 1934
DALLAS TEXAS

MISS ELEANOR STEED
ROTHENBURG-OB-DER-TAUBER
DEUTSCHLAND
IN ANSWER TO YOUR CABLE YOU WERE BORN AT 4 35 P M
AUGUST 25 1913 ARE YOU BEING INTERROGATED AM
FRANTIC WITH WORRY IF YOU ARE IN TROUBLE GO TO
AMERICAN EMBASSY AT ONCE PLEASE ADVISE OF YOUR
SITUATION IMMEDIATELY

LOVE
MOTHER

 

 

September 21, 1934
Dallas

Miss Eleanor Steed
Rothenburg-ob-der-Tauber
Deutschland
Darling,

I was so relieved to get your letter and to learn you needed the hour of your birth for astrological purposes only. However, I was stunned that, according to the stars, you have yet to meet the man you are going to marry. I thought you and Henry were having a wonderful summer. What has gone wrong?

I can understand his ambition to be a poet and it is a profession he can certainly afford. The examples of his work that you sent me are indeed impressive and I imagine he will find in England just the intellectual climate his work requires in order to grow and flourish. But why is he going to England alone? And what is keeping you in Germany?

I had hoped you would be coming home in time for the fall social season. The president of the Idlewild Club has called me several times to see if you are interested in making your debut. I have taken the liberty of assuring him that you are—anything less would seem insulting—though I did warn him it might not be this year.

You have acquired a rather glamorous reputation in absentia but it is time to reinforce it with your presence. People are admittedly intrigued at first by someone who stays away, but finally distance becomes an affront. However, someone who chooses to come home when there are clearly so many other choices available, is accorded a welcome unknown to those who never left.

It has been a joy to have Andrew living at home again. He has not had any luck finding a position equal to his education, but times are difficult and he was grateful to get a job with the gas company last week. Unfortunately the hours are not very compatible with his heavy social schedule, but any job that would allow him to sleep until noon would also require his presence after dark and of course that is out of the question—at least until after the holidays.

Please let me know your plans in detail. I am delighted you are acquiring such fluency in German. In spite of Annie's patient efforts with all of us, it is a tongue I could never master. I am dazzled to think you will soon have four languages at your command. That is a greater fortune than anything you will inherit from me. However, what finally matters is
what
you are saying and not in which language you are saying it. At this moment I must confess I do not understand you in any language. But I love you in all of them.

Mother

November 23, 1934
Dallas

Mr. Richard Prince
Greenhill Estate
Atlanta, Georgia

 

Dearest Richard,

Today is my birthday and I feel my life is over at forty-four. The end came this morning with a birthday greeting from my daughter, now studying sculpture in Munich. She told me she and Henry made a vow in September when they parted—to renounce the limited pleasures of earthly love and consecrate their lives to art. In the same letter she told me you had remarried. My past and my future have been taken from me with one blow and without them my present has no meaning.

I long ago abandoned the hope that you and I could have a relationship within the boundaries of this country and the responsibilities to which our previous lives had already committed us but, until I was deprived of it this morning, I did not realize how much I cherished the illusion that our children would continue what we began. Without it, I am lonelier than I have ever been.

I know that you and your new wife are now on an extended Mediterranean cruise but since your Georgia address is the only one I have, I am sending my letter there in the hope that it will be forwarded to you abroad. I do not know your itinerary but I am sure you will be seeing your son in England. Please remind him that the greatest poets have been inspired to new heights of achievement by the love of a woman. Where would Dante have been without Beatrice?

Though it would have thrilled me to announce the marriage of my daughter to your son, I would be quite content at this point with a less permanent arrangement. I can understand how a poet might resist any relationship that threatened to disintegrate into domestic routine, but Henry and Eleanor share so many of the same elusive goals, it seems a pity they cannot pursue them in tandem if not united in marriage. Besides, as you and I both know, a union of souls is often more easily accomplished outside of marriage.

However, I trust this is not the case with you at present. Please accept my congratulations. I will try to take comfort in the knowledge that someone who traveled alone for so much of his life has at last found a partner to share his excursions. I suppose it is because I have been deprived of this experience that I seek it so desperately for my daughter.

Why do I suddenly seem so old at forty-four—and wise only by default? I know I will feel better in the morning, but how will I get through the night? (That is merely a rhetorical question. Unfortunately my nights are not your affair.)

Adieu,
Bess

April 18, 1935
aboard the
North Star
at
Helsinki

Andrew darling,

Eleanor was thrilled to learn of your engagement and will be coming home with me for the wedding.

This trip has made both of us realize how little we really know of the world. Eleanor met my ship at Southampton and we spent a week in London before embarking on the North Cape cruise. She was anxious to see Henry Prince again. They had corresponded faithfully all year, each encouraging the other's single-minded pursuit of his chosen art form, but it came as quite a shock to Eleanor, who has studied sculpture with the solitary devotion of a nun, to find that Henry composes his poetry in the company of a young man who shares his flat.

Eleanor felt so betrayed as both an artist and a woman that when she returned to our hotel, she threatened to destroy the terra-cotta madonna she had made for my birthday. Fortunately I got to it in time and it is now packed safely away, out of reach of her anger. I treasure it all the more knowing she will never again work at her art with so pure a motive.

We left London in just the mood to appreciate the stark beauty of the Scandinavian countries and as we approach our final destination—Leningrad—I am intrigued at the thought of penetrating a culture so different from our own. Though I had a hard time convincing Eleanor to come with me on this cruise, she is now very glad that she did. It seems the best way of getting her home to Texas is by way of a place she has never been.

As soon as we return I would like to give a party at the country club in honor of your engagement and Eleanor's homecoming. You choose the date and book the orchestra but do not extend any invitations until I have approved the guest list.

Love,
Mother

 

JUNE 5 1935
ABOARD QUEEN MARY

MR ALBERT HENDERSON
PRESIDENT
IDLEWILD CLUB
ADOLPHUS HOTEL
DALLAS TEXAS
ELEANOR JUST GAVE VERBAL CONSENT FOR FALL DEBUT
HOPE YOU ARE STILL FREE TO ESCORT HER

BESS STEED GARNER

October 5, 1935
Dallas

Dearest Lydia and Manning,

After so many quiet years when the children were away at school, our house has come alive again. Sam complains constantly of the noise but I cherish every sound—even the victrola music coming from the third floor at three o'clock in the morning.

From the beginning that floor has belonged to the children. Now all the furniture has been cleared from the large center area that was once a playroom to make room for dancing. Eleanor has claimed the two rooms to the left for her bedroom and studio and Andrew calls the two adjoining rooms on the other side his suite.

Last Saturday night they brought several members of the band home with them from a party and danced till dawn. When Sam and I awoke Sunday morning, we had twenty unexpected guests for breakfast. Fortunately my housekeeper is as happy as I am to have the children home so she was undaunted by the size of the crowd. She didn't even mind missing church. She said she could praise God just as well making pancakes as she could standing in a pew.

Eleanor has been feted like a returning prodigal ever since we got back from our North Cape cruise. A few weeks ago some of her friends got together and served her with a mock subpoena, charging her with monopolizing the attention of all the eligible young men in town. Her “trial” was held at the Manhole, a house shared by a half dozen promising young lawyers, one of whom undertook her defense. His name is Walter Burton and I gather he comes from a rural family of unknown origin somewhere in Maryland. However, in the year since he arrived here, he has earned the respect of some of the city's most prominent lawyers, and Eleanor was thoroughly delighted with his eloquent defense. After she was “acquitted,” everyone at the trial was served dinner. All the men sharing the house contribute to the salary of a cook, and, according to Eleanor, an invitation to dine at the Manhole is one of the most sought-after in town.

I hope the two of you will be able to attend the dance I am giving in Eleanor's honor a month after the Idlewild Ball. Traditionally, her escort for the ball, in this case the president of the club, would escort her on this occasion, but she insists on according the honor to her defender, Walter Burton. This is a complete breach of etiquette and I am unequivocally opposed to it, though I like the young man in question very much. However, she says she would rather cancel the party than spend it in the company of someone who bored her so I suppose I have no choice but to give my consent. I have persuaded her, however, to keep her decision private until after Idlewild. I do not want anything to jeopardize her formal introduction to Dallas society on the arm of the club president.

I am anxious for you to meet Nell Cunningham, the young woman Andrew is going to marry. She is a direct descendant of one of the first families of Virginia, and I cannot help being flattered that she has agreed to marry my son. I just hope he properly appreciates his good fortune.